


Pitch Pipe and Knitting Needles

by lexiwritesalot



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AND IT'S CUTE, Alternate Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, and they both sing, harry knits, they're both super in love with each other, train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3063242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiwritesalot/pseuds/lexiwritesalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis ride the same train every morning. Harry knits, and Louis likes to sing for people. Something's missing for both of them, but they'll find out that they complete each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pitch Pipe and Knitting Needles

**Author's Note:**

> Originally on my tumblr  
> I suck at summaries  
> I love feedback :*  
> <3

Louis had always been a big dreamer. He had always wanted to be famous, to travel the world, and to have lots of money to support his family as his mum continued to grow older and older. He had thought himself to be a decent singer; his whole family said so, and the Tomlinsons weren’t the type to lie to make someone feel good, even someone in their family. Maybe if The Rogue hadn’t broken up when all his friends went off to university and his confidence hadn’t been shot, he would’ve tried out for one of those silly singing entertainment shows for his fifteen minutes of fame, or he could’ve pooled his money with the other boys and booked a recording studio to record one simple demo and go from there. He really wanted to perform, but he knew those dreams had been dashed once his band disintegrated. He didn’t feel like he could go it alone anyway.

Louis wished he had worked harder in school as well, maybe to earn a scholarship or two. He knew he was smart, he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t. He just hadn’t cared about school, too busy dating and goofing off and not balancing the band and schoolwork and his other antics, so his grades suffered. He had definitely matured since then, but he wished he had gotten his reality check sooner, instead of when it was time to look at universities and he realized his family simply didn’t have enough money to pay for him to go and continue his studies. He had been looking at a teaching degree, maybe with separate music classes on the side, but the funds weren’t there. He was devastated when he realized he wouldn’t be able to go away to school, at least not now. His confidence was gone, his mother was often upset with him for reasons unknown to everyone, and he honestly just felt sad all the time. Louis felt alone and didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Louis tried to keep hope and faith, however. He always carried a pitch pipe in his pocket in case he saw someone who might need some music in their life, and if they did, he decided he would sing for them. He hadn’t used it yet. His days consisted of waking up and heading to the train, off to his measly office internship in the city, where he would take phone calls and inventory of the business shop where he worked, staring out the window at the city below, and daydreaming his days away. He’d go home and make dinner at the flat he had shared with Stan until Stan moved out to live with his girlfriend. At least Stan had the kindness to leave Louis with their cat, Noah. That was his life, and although Louis thought the future was always bright, it’s needless to say that he was often left feeling a tad discouraged with his routines.    

All Harry ever wanted to do was help people. 

It was in his blood, he supposed. His aunt was a therapist, his oldest cousin was a doctor, and his mother was one of the kindest women he had ever known. She had been so accepting of Harry when he came out as gay, and she helped him through everything, wiping his tears away when he was bullied and telling his father off when he refused to accept his son’s sexual orientation. Harry admired her and the rest of his family for their kindness and generosity, and wanted to help others in any way that he could.

His mother had taught him how to knit when he was ten years old. He had been watching her sit on the couch with Gemma, trying to teach her, when all Gemma really wanted to do was go out and play with her friends. But Harry had watched intently and had all but begged Anne to teach him. So she gave him some needles and a ball of blue yarn and put him to work. In no time he was knitting up a storm, learning crazy stitches and getting better and better. Soon he was even better than his mother, and the student became the teacher. Harry began to teach Anne all of the tricks he had learned online and in the innumerable knitting books he had snagged from the library. It was his favorite pastime, his favorite hobby. That, and singing, but he thought he was rubbish at that. Knitting calmed him down, and made him feel like he could do something right.

When he was sixteen and Gemma had gone off to Uni, Anne decided she was sick of living in Holmes Chapel and decided to move herself and Harry to Doncaster, to be closer to Anne’s brother. Harry knew he should be upset because Holmes Chapel was his only home, but it didn’t have much to offer and Harry dreamed big, so he wasn’t all that upset. He was ready for a new beginning, and he was hopeful.

Harry was seventeen now. He was in his last year of school before university, and frankly, he was freaking out. He had not clue what he wanted to do with his life, at least practically. And Harry had always had a tendency to avoid his problems and procrastinate to begin with, which only made him even more stressed and anxious. Harry didn’t have any friends at school yet, and he felt shy and antisocial. He spent his days knitting. It was his coping mechanism. On the train to school, he sit, take out his yarn and needles, and begin to knit. He loved to knit scarves, and he decided he wanted to begin to knit scarves for the homeless. He saw plenty of homeless people at the train stops, near school, on the streets. He wanted to help them keep warm in the cold that was Doncaster. It became his mission to knit 100 scarves this school year. He’d get his work done on the train to school, after school and on the weekends, whenever he had free time, which was often. As of November 17, he had knitted four full scarves. He was beginning to think his goal may have been a bit of a long shot, but he was still determined to try and knit as much as he could. 

So that was Louis and Harry. Two completely different souls, who would never be thought to be brought together at any point in the universe, if it weren’t for the train.

The train left the station at 6:56 every morning, without fail. That was the policy of the company. If you missed it, you were screwed. That was the case for Harry and Louis both. Harry’s school day began at 7:45, and his mum went into work at 7:30. If he missed the train, which he had only once before, he was forced to trudge home and he had no way to get to school. Most kids would love having a day off with nothing they could do about it, but Harry hated it. He actually liked school. Not for the people. He hated the people; well, except for Michael, the only other lad at the school who liked to sing, that he knew of. Michael was one of his only friends, not necessarily by choice, but just because he really disliked basically everyone at the school. Harry simply loved to learn. So, he set alarms extra early and always made sure to be out the door and on the train on time. 

Louis had to be at work on time every day, or his boss would cut his pay an hour. His boss was an utter prick and Louis was incredibly anxious to be out of this job, but he needed to pay the bills somehow, so he continued for the sake of the money and so the landlord wouldn’t kill him.

The first time Louis noticed Harry, it was an ordinary December day.

He got on the train as he always did, planning on sitting in the same seat he always did, third row, window seat. It had been his routine ever since he started his business job, and he never planned on changing it. That would be pointless. However, today, he saw an elderly woman and a little boy Louis guessed was her grandson sitting in the seats he usually sat in. He had never seen them before, so he guessed they were tourists.  _Then why are they traveling so early in the morning?_  a little voice in his head asked, but he didn’t think much of it. His brain was preoccupied by the petty annoyance of his routine being screwed up. He knew there was nothing he could do about it; he wasn’t going to ask a poor old woman to give up her seat for Louis’ sanity. So, he moved further into the train, a couple rows back. 

Louis sat down in the back of the train, where the seats faced each other. He sat across from a pretty, curly-haired boy with earbuds in and concentration on his face. Oh, and he had knitting needles in his hands. The boy licked his lips and and began to mumble to himself. “Knit, purl…one more…shit.” Louis smiled. This boy was pretty cute, he had to say. He sighed to himself.  _Well, if I can’t sit where I usually sit today, it’s good enough to have someone cute to look at to pass the time on the train._  And the boy got even cuter when he began to hum and mumble the words to what sounded like and Ed Sheeran song Louis vaguely knew. And hey, the kid didn’t have a bad voice either. Actually, he had quite a lovely voice. Louis smiled to himself, but looked away when the boy looked up.

Louis didn’t say anything to that boy that day, but for some reason, he was on his mind all day at work.

Maybe Louis didn’t always have to sit in the third row window seat every day after all.

The first time Harry noticed Louis was actually the next day.

He had arrived at the train stop extra early today, because it was raining and he ran from his house to the stop so he wouldn’t get too wet. The train obviously wasn’t there yet. According to his watch, he had six minutes before the train actually arrived. He took a seat under the roof-like cover at the stop and he was about to shove his earbuds in his ears to drown out the sound of the rain when he heard a voice that sounded like a goddamn angel coming from about ten feet away from him.

“Listen,” the voice said. “I know things are really hard right now, but I promise you it’ll get better. I’m sure someday you’re going to have a great house all to yourself and you’ll be happy, really happy. I promise it’ll get better, honestly.” The person this man was speaking to looked homeless, and she was crying. She were sitting, wrapped in a blanket on the ground with a hat beside her for spare change, and Harry’s heart broke. He leaned his head closer to the conversation so he could hear what was going on better.

The man continued. “Listen. There’s not much I can do for you except give you these two pounds and offer some encouraging words, but how about I try and cheer you up, love?” he said quietly, stroking her hair. He then took a pitch pipe out of his pocket and blew into it. And if this couldn’t get any sweeter, the man began to sing, and Harry honest to God thought he heard angel voices.

_And you don’t need_

_You don’t need to run_

_And you will see it’s easy to be loved_

_I know you wanna be loved_

The woman smiled and thanked him quietly, wiping her tears away. the man smiled and kissed her cheek, and then the train came. Harry stood up, still in awe, and smiled to himself. As he was walking onto the train to get to his seat, he accidentally bumped into the man. The man looked at him with wide eyes and blushed, then smiling. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“My bad,” Harry said back. “Sorry, but what you did back there with that woman was so lovely. Um…and you have a really nice singing voice,” he mumbled quickly. 

“I’m Louis,” the now named stranger blurted out. “Please sit with me?” Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded. “I’d love to,” he replied. “And m’Harry,” he added. Louis smiled from ear to ear. “N-nice to meet you, Harry.”

The two boys found a seat together, the same seat they had been sitting in the day before, actually. Harry sat by the window but sat facing Louis. He really hoped this extremely attractive and beautiful soul of a man would continue talking to him, and his prayers were answered.

“I sat across from you yesterday,” Louis said suddenly. He didn’t know how he could be so open with Harry, but it was coming so natural to him right now. He was never like this. Maybe singing for the woman at the train stop gave him some confidence. Harry blushed. “Oh, you did? Sorry, I didn’t notice. I, um, I kind of get lost in my thoughts sometimes.” Louis nodded. 

“Me too,” he agreed. “You were knitting, right?”

Harry blushed again, deeper this time. He looked at the ground. “Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “I kind of have this goal for myself, to um…to knit scarves for as many homeless people as possible, because it gets so cold outside and I feel so bad and this is the only way I feel like I can help…it’s not much, but…” and _oh,_ Louis really wanted to kiss this boy.

But he barely knew him, so obviously that was off the table for a while. “That’s wonderful, Harry. That’s such a kind thing to do, honestly.”

Harry grinned. “It calms me down, and it’s a nice way to pass the time on my way to school or whenever I have time at home.” Louis nodded. “I think that’s lovely,” he said honestly. 

“So, Louis,” Harry began. “Tell me about yourself.”

So Louis did. In the half hour train ride, Louis told Harry all about his boring office job and the band he used to have and the significance of the pitch pipe. He went on and on and Harry hung onto every word. Louis tried to drag it out because he wanted an excuse to sit with this boy again tomorrow, so Harry could tell Louis about himself. And his plan worked. Harry said the should sit together the next day.

And that’s how their friendship began. Harry told Louis all about his life. He was such a fascinating man. He was sweet and smart and adorable and Louis was definitely crushing. Harry felt exactly the same way. Louis was so endearing and kind, and he wanted to know everything about him.

So, they began to sit with each other on the train every single day. Harry would sit and knit, humming to himself and listening to Louis tell him hellish office stories and anecdotes all bout his cat Noah, and Harry tried to teach Louis a few knit stitches. Louis was rubbish at it, but he still enjoyed the feeling of Harry’s hands on his, teaching him how to move the needles. The boys exchanged numbers and began texting and talking on the phone nonstop. Anne noticed a significant mood change in Harry, one for the better. “This Louis must be a really great man,” she often commented. Harry would always blush and nod to himself. 

And then, on February 17,many wonderful things happened.

Harry got to the bus stop early, as he always did these days, expecting to see Louis talking to his new friend, the homeless woman who he sang to the first day Harry met him. However, Louis was nowhere to be found. Harry frowned and pouted. He didn’t understand why Louis wasn’t there. If he was sick he would’ve texted him, but his phone had no notifications. The train came and Harry was half tempted to tell the conductor to wait and not leave till Louis got there, but he knew they wouldn’t listen to him. With a sigh, he went to his seat, alone, and put in his headphones. He took out his needles and yarn and slowly began to knit, singing along softly to the music on his phone. He missed Louis telling jokes and stories and making his day brighter. the train didn’t feel complete.

The train jolted to s stop at the next stop, but Harry barely noticed. He continued singing along and knitting. He only had three more rows on this scarf, and he wanted to get it done.

And then, he felt a weight on the seat next to him, and arm come around his shoulders in a sir hug. Harry jumped and ripped the headphones out of his ears, sighing in relief when he saw who it was. “Louis!” he all but squealed, grinning from ear to ear. “Where were you? I was worried…” Louis shushed him. “I know, I know I’m sorry I really should have texted. Stan stayed over last night because he and his girlfriend got in a fight, and he was really hungover and I had to take care of him this morning, and then I realized I missed the train, so I ran as fast as I could to this stop, so I could go to work and so I could see you.” (Louis knew that was half a lie. In any other circumstance, he would’ve just skipped work that day if he missed the train. He just really wanted to see Harry.)

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Harry admitted. “I missed you.” Louis rolled his eyes and pushed his shoulder. Harry blushed and went back to his knitting.

“Oh, by the fucking way Styles, what the hell? I know you told me you liked to sing, but that voice?” Harry looked at him, puzzled. “Before you noticed me sit next to you, I heard you singing along to your music, and you honestly have the voice of a fucking angel.” Harry keened at the compliment. “Oh, come on, Louis, that’s you,” he argued. “When you sang for that lady the first time I met you, it was unreal. It gave me the chills, no lie.” 

Louis blushed. “I’m really not that great.” 

Harry pushed his shoulder right back. “Yes, you really are, you little shit.”

Louis gasped in mock offense. “Well! I guess we’ll just have to sing together then.” Harry nodded. “I guess we will someday.”

Louis shook his head. “No, I mean right now.” Harry’s eyes widened, and Louis took out the pitch pipe. “Do you know Look After You?” he asked quietly. Harry nodded, eyes wide. 

“I’ll start,” Louis offered. He blew the pipe and began to croon quietly. 

_If I don’t say this now, I will surely break_

_As I’m leaving the one I want to take_

He nodded at Harry, who was lost in Louis’ eyes. He opened his mouth.

_Forget the urgency, just hurry up and wait_

_My heart has started to separate_

Louis joined him.

_Oh, oh, be my baby_

_Oh, whoa_

_Oh, oh, be my baby_

_And I’ll look after you…_

They sang together in perfect harmony. Their voices blended beautiful together. Louis smiled as he sang. He really really liked this boy. Harry smiled, feeling the same way.

Some people around them began to stop their conversations and listen to the two boys singing, lost in each other’s eyes and voices. They nudged the people sitting with them and pointed at the boy with the fringe and the boy with the needles, looking fond as ever.

They finished the song and finally broke their gaze, and people around them applauded. And maybe it was the adrenaline or how fucking beautiful Harry’s eyes were, but Louis leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Harry’s eyes widened and Louis immediately worried that Harry didn’t like Louis like that, but in less than two seconds Harry grabbed the back of Louis’ neck to pull him closer, closed his eyes, and they were kissing again. The people around them applauded again, and both boys smiled.

From then on, Harry and Louis were HarryandLouis. Harry would still knit on the train, but now he’d have Louis’ head resting on his shoulder, watching him work fondly, and Louis would sing to him, instead of the music on his phone. And at the end of the day, Harry would often go to Louis’ flat and they’d cook dinner together and watch movies, and snuggle, talking about whatever they wanted. Louis would help Harry with his homework, and Harry would do the dishes.

And at the train stop, Louis would help Harry hand out finished scarves, and then they’d sing to people together to cheer them up. It was a lovely arrangement, and both boys couldn’t be happier. 

Louis eventually learned how to knit a bit better, and together, by the end of the year, the boys together reached Harry’s goal of 100 scarves. As they handed them out, Harry whispered with tears in his eyes. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Lou.” Louis grabbed Harry into his arms and smiled. “I’m so glad I could help you.

Harry’s 101st scarf ended up being for Louis, for his birthday, which was ten days after the one year anniversary of the day they met. As Louis opened his gift, he saw the tag on the inside, sewed in.

_To Louis._

_Thank you for bringing the music back into my life._

_Love always, Your Harry._

**Author's Note:**

> idk this had so much potential and idk if i did it justice but I hope you liked it :)


End file.
